


Fell

by Shana_Nakazawa



Series: #RWDP [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Human!Castiel - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Loathing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 08:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3685863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shana_Nakazawa/pseuds/Shana_Nakazawa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I fell for you, Dean Winchester,” Castiel has said one day, with blood in his vein and stars in his eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fell

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is unbeta'd, so all mistakes belong to me. If you like this one, check the #RWDP tag on my Tumblr [here](http://heytherecastiel.tumblr.com/tagged/rwdp) for more. Or you can request me with a prompt [here](http://heytherecastiel.tumblr.com/ask).

Dean Winchester knows a lot about loving someone, but how he has forgotten of being loved.

Dean Winchester has been the one who gives so many times, he doesn’t know how to take.

Dean Winchester has scars on his body, remainder of the many times he fought and fell for the ones he swore to protect; but to be the cause of someone’s fall is all too new and foreign for him.

So when Castiel—a mighty angel, a warrior of God—falls from his grace, Dean turns blind. He continues to do so, actually, until the angel has to throw the words to his face.

And oh, how it is magical.

“I fell for you, Dean Winchester,” Castiel has said one day, with blood in his vein and stars in his eyes.

Dean doesn’t know how to react. This is not supposed to happen. Dean is just a low human; bloody and broken with soul so impure even Lucifer laughs (“Really, what was Dad thinking when he chose  _you_ to become Michael’s vessel, huh?”). He doesn’t deserve to be needed, to be  _loved_. Yet here Castiel stands, all his humanity compressed in a small body of what used to belong to Jimmy Novak, his angelic grace seeping out fast.

So he gulps and stares, fear clear in his green orbs. His voice comes out shaky when he asks, “Why?”

Castiel’s head tilts. Dean suddenly remembers the first time Castiel showed himself, all majestic and mysterious. “Isn’t it obvious?” the dark-haired man asks with the same tone he used all those years ago.

“What’s so obvious?” Dean snaps. “For fuck’s sake, Cas, I-I’m not—I don’t deserve it. All this—” he waves his hands, gesturing at everything, “is not … look, I’m not worth it, okay? When I started out as a hunter, all I want was to make Dad happy, and maybe gank the son of a bitch who killed my Mom and avenge her. I didn’t sign up for this saving-the-world bullshit! I’m not cut for this. I did the exact opposite of what was told. I cause harm and destruction and  _death_ everywhere I go. I’m just…”

Silence stretches, and Cas looks at Dean as if he’s waiting for the hunter to finish his words. Dean runs a hand through his hair, feeling ache spreading all over his body, before he turns at Cas in desperation. “I don’t deserve you, and I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t,” Cas states firmly.

“No, you wingless dickbag! I should feel sorry, I really should!” Dean yells again, throat sore from the weight of emotions crashing in his voice. “I’m sorry, really. For bringing you down with me. Hell, if I was strong enough, all this wouldn’t happen. Lucifer wouldn’t walk out, Sammy would still have a life, and you … you would still be in Heaven, strumming angelic harp or something—not here,  _fallen_ , human.”

Dean decides that he’s had enough. All the burden in his shoulder comes crashing down, and now he just wants to sleep. Sleep and never wake up.

“Dean, listen to me,” Cas says again, this time with softer voice. “I fell for you. Not  _because_ of you, but  _for_ you. There’s a difference.”

Cas sees the stillness of Dean, the fear in his broad yet fragile body. He reaches out for Dean’s face, tracing the freckles on his cheeks. “I choose this path, Dean. It is not forced upon me. If any, I might have forced my existence on you,” Cas’ stare falls as he retracts his hand. Dean’s own itches to hold them, take them and feel the warmth of flesh against flesh, but he refrains. For a while, their breathing—and the night in the background—is the only sound filling the air.

Cas heaves a breath. “I left Heaven. I betrayed my own brothers and sisters. I gave up on my Father. I turn my back on my faith,” he says, his voice soft, his lips quivering. “I fell, Dean. I truly fell in every way imaginable.”

“Cas—”

“But,” Cas cuts him, looking straight at Dean’s eyes, into his soul, “I would do it again and again, because I know, in the end, I fell in the best way possible.”

Dean’s breath hitches when Cas finds a way to hold his face. The former angel smiles. The wind blows as a night breeze, delivering the sweet whisper of those sinful lips; “Dean Winchester, I fell in love with you.”

Surprisingly for both of them, Dean is the one to kiss first. At first, it feels like lips against lips. But then Dean’s stomach churns, and he kisses Cas again and again desperately. He grasps at the man’s lithe body, holding him so close he can hear the erratic thumping of his heart.

“Oh God, Cas…” Dean breathes, looking at the universe trapped in Cas’ blue orbs, and he kisses the man again. This time slower, softer, but more passionate than ever. Dean can’t help but cling at the feeling; cling at  _Cas_ like the human is his lifeline.

For once, Dean Winchester learns how it feels to be loved.


End file.
